


Let Me Hold You

by writtenintostars



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo, les mis
Genre: M/M, enjoltaire - Freeform, exr - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 07:50:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10680921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtenintostars/pseuds/writtenintostars
Summary: How many times has Grantaire held Enjolras, and how many times has Enjolras held Grantaire?





	Let Me Hold You

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to post this in my collection Enjoltaire Drabbles, but i like this short fic enough i wanted it to be on its own. If you like it, make sure to check out my other fics!

They held each other before they kissed.  
After months of just wanting to touch the other, they can finally (finally) do so. The first thing that happens is Grantaire reaching out and cupping Enjolras’s hand in his.  
Just.  
Like.  
That.

\---

The second time Grantaire holds Enjolras, they still haven’t kissed.   
He feels the energy from Enjolras when the leader takes his place next to him. It hurts Grantaire to see the one he loves think so poorly of himself after one bad speech.  
Enjolras lays his head on Grantaire’s shoulder, and relaxes just a bit when an arm wraps around him, protecting him from any harsh glances from those sitting behind them.

 

\---

The third time is different.   
Grantaire is holding Enjolras, yes, but it’s to keep him grounded. Enjolras is holding Grantaire, cradling him, to make sure he doesn’t leave.  
Grantaire would never leave.  
Grantaire’s hand on Enjolras’s hips tighten slightly as their first kiss deepens. It’s becoming more and more desperate. They don’t want to stop. It is a mix of golden and brown curls everywhere, combined with furrowed brows and smiling.  
The way this makes them feel, it’s like they never stopped at all.

 

\---

Fourth time is obvious.  
The beginning of their relationship always was to their friends too. Their feelings for each other even before that.  
The friends aren’t upset, or even embarrassed, when they see Enjolras’s legs straddling Grantaire on one of the chairs at the cafe.  
One of Grantaire’s hands is on Enjolras’s tricep, the other is twisting in perfect curls.  
They can’t seem to stop smiling, and the feeling spreads.

\---

Fifth time, Enjolras holds an entire record of Grantaire to his chest.  
This book, filled with endless sketches done by the artist, is the best book Enjolras has ever read. Grantaire’s pictures all have a story.  
He flips through pages of Eponine wearing flower crowns and Cosette walking with deer until he reaches the piece depicting all of their friends as Greek gods. Enjolras bites back the strangled sound in his throat at the sight of Grantaire's persona on the smallest throne.

 

\---

They're lost count of how many times they've held each other now, but if you asked in the moment, they would both tell you this is the best time.  
It's new, so new, but it's a finally.  
Enjolras is in Grantaire's hand, and from above Grantaire, his brow is knit, his mouth slightly ajar. Beautiful sounds are pouring out of him, telling Grantaire how he feels.  
The angelical sounds grow louder and Grantaire strokes him, until they cease and Enjolras collapses on Grantaire. He feels himself become enveloped, Grantaire’s experienced hands taking their place on the small of his back and his shoulder blades.

 

\---  
There is no escape, there is no excuse. It is Enjolras’s fault.  
As he waits in the hospital, he thinks of things that should have gone differently, and things he could have done.  
Should have done.   
He should have protected Grantaire at his first protest that went violent.  
He should have held him, shielded him from the truth of that moment.  
How many times has Grantaire held Enjolras? How many times has Enjolras held him in comparison?  
“You may see him now.”  
Enjolras is running, running, running- his shoulder blades that Grantaire rubbed when he was tired; they were wings, and they carried him to where he had to be. (Enjolras didn’t hear a room number. Somehow, he didn’t need to.)  
He chokes out a sob at the sight on Grantaire in the hospital bed.  
He’s shirtless, bandaged, and his face is as bruised and purple in the skies of his paintings.  
Enjolras’s hands are on his cheeks, and he’s pressing kisses on Grantaire’s eyes, nose, cheeks, as lightly as he can make himself.  
Somehow, he’s squeezed into the bed.  
After a few minutes, Grantaire hears the crying, and with the little strength he has, the broken man brings Enjolras’s hand to his chest.  
“Do you feel it?” he whispers. Enjolras sniffs, then closes his eyes. Grantaire as carefully pressed their foreheads together and lets Enjolras feel it.  
His heartbeat.  
“Still here.” he says, An arm snakes around his waist, but he doesn’t move.  
“Grantaire.” the sound of Enjolras’s voice wills heavy eyes up. A hand presses dark hair to strong shoulders, and the next words are spoken very softly.   
“Just let me hold you.”


End file.
